


Between Us

by LadyLibby



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Love, Mutual Pining, Romance, Secret Relationship, Smut, bets are the most fun when Morgan and Garcia lose, we stan Jemily in this house
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29812368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLibby/pseuds/LadyLibby
Summary: You and Hotch have been friends for years, and colleagues for even longer. One night, after years of stealing glances and holding back, you finally reveal your feelings for each other. As questions of your career and his reputation arise, however, you decide it’s best to keep the relationship a secret. But when you’re working with a team of FBI profilers, how long can you keep the truth just between the two of you?
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader, Aaron Hotchner/You, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 10
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! The first of eight installments in the latest product of my Hotch obsession. I really loved writing this series, so I hope you all enjoy reading it!

It began on Halloween. 

“Happy All-Hallows Eve, everyone!” Reid announced, entering the office with a black cape and vampire fangs. 

You grinned, “To you as well, Reid.” 

You’d always loved Halloween. Ever since you were old enough to know what it was, Halloween had been your favorite holiday. When you were a kid, you loved the feeling of reckless freedom that came from running around in the dark and gathering more candy than you could possibly eat. 

As you got older, you loved the process of planning your costumes. You always started early, sometimes even making them yourself. 

You went to Halloween parties as a teenager and in college, but you preferred the kind where a marathon of Halloween movies was on or people were playing one of those murder mystery dinner party games. The ones where people were blasting loud music and making out in corners while they just happened to be wearing cat ears on their head didn’t really align with your love for the holiday. 

As an adult, your celebration of the day had become more subdued. Your apartment building didn’t have a lot of families and they all took their kids trick or treating in the suburbs. Early on in your time with the BAU you’d hosted the others for a Halloween party but when the team solved the murder mystery in the first five minutes you’d decided not to make it an annual thing. 

Still, the day itself put an extra spring in your step and a larger smile on your face. You’d risen early and baked a big batch of pumpkin muffins as you had every Halloween for the last few years. Reid always brought candy in a bucket shaped like Frankenstein’s monster’s head and you brought muffins. 

“Nice cape.” You nodded approvingly, offering him one of the baked goods. 

Reid accepted, removing his fangs to take a big bite of the treat. “No costume this year?” 

“I’m going subtle,” You said, gesturing to your all-black pantsuit before pulling a witch hat from under your desk and setting it on your head. “Easy to remove if a case pops up.” 

Reid nodded, his unruly hair already escaping the slicked-back style he’d attempted for the day. “Me too.” 

“Oh no, Pretty Boy.” Morgan’s smooth voice cut in, leaning over your desk to snatch his third muffin of the morning, “If we have to get on the jet, the cape is coming with us.”

“And these–” You lifted the large tupperware out of Morgan’s reach, “are coming with me before you eat them all.  _ Again. _ ” 

“C’mon mama,” Morgan groaned, “I have been dreaming of these for  _ weeks _ .” 

“Best savor that one, then.” You walked away from your desk, turning back to look at him over your shoulder. “If there are any leftovers at the end of the day, they’re yours.” 

“See that, Pretty Boy? No one is immune to my charm.” You heard him say, laughing quietly to yourself as you headed up the stairs to the conference room. 

Prentiss and JJ were already sitting at the round table going through a stack of files together, their chairs pulled close together and their heads bowed barely an inch apart.

“Are those all potential cases?” You asked, alerting them to your presence. 

They both looked up quickly, shifting immediately away from each other. You pretended not to notice, as you always did. Whatever was going on between them was one of the worst kept secrets in the BAU. 

Morgan and Garcia had a hefty bet going on when JJ and Emily would finally admit they were more than just friends. You didn’t have any money in the pool, and neither did Reid. You both just wanted them to be happy– however that was for them.

“Yeah, Emily’s giving me a hand.” JJ said, glancing at the dark haired woman to her left, who looked back down at the files. “Unless something huge comes up, we’ll probably have one picked for tomorrow.” 

“I brought muffins,” You said, setting the tupperware in the center of the table, drawing Prentiss’s attention as well. 

“Oooh,” her eyes widened and she immediately reached for one. “I forgot today was Halloween.” 

“Clearly you haven’t talked to Reid yet today.” JJ intoned, smiling wryly. “How many of these has Morgan had so far?”

“Oh, just three.” You laughed. “Actually, that’s a good reminder– I should give Hotch one to bring home for Jack.” 

You grabbed a napkin and carefully selected the best muffin you could find before leaving Prentiss and JJ to their privacy again. 

You had a particular soft spot for Jack, having spent a fair amount of time helping look after him over the years. After losing Haley, you’d wanted to be there as much as possible for Hotch and Jack, babysitting when Hotch had late meetings, entertaining Jack when he had to come to the office, bringing back stickers and souvenirs from the places the team visited for him. He always said you were his favorite BAU member (apart from his dad), and it never failed to warm your heart. He was a sweet kid, happy and kind and curious despite the hardship he’d faced, and you loved him for it. 

Reaching Hotch’s office, you lifted your free hand to knock against the smooth wood of the door. 

His familiar, if slightly muffled, baritone responded, “Come in.”

“‘Morning, Hotch,” You greeted, stepping inside. 

“Good morning,” He looked up, lips quirking up in an amused half-smile as he looked slightly above your head. “And happy Halloween.”

Your face heated up slightly as you remembered the pointy black hat on your head, hoping he didn’t find it overly juvenile. You quickly reached up with your free hand and took it off.

“Happy Halloween,” You returned, moving to set the muffin on the edge of his desk. “That’s for Jack. Um, there are more in the conference room but I wanted to make sure one was set aside before Morgan eats them all.” 

“Like last year.” Hotch nodded. 

“Exactly.” You agreed, laughing lightly. 

“Thank you,” Hotch said with a small smile. “I know Jack will love it.” 

“Good.” You said, fidgeting a bit with the black tulle along the brim of the hat. 

You always felt nervous when you and Hotch were alone in his office. Not because he intimidated you. You’d gotten over that after your first year with the BAU. But because you didn’t know where the two of you stood. 

When you were working a case, sitting in the conference room or on the jet with the rest of the team, working with local law enforcement, focusing on finding an unsub, you knew what the rules were. Hotch was your superior, your colleague, and you worked well together. 

When the two of you were away from the BAU, you were usually helping out with Jack or going out for a drink with the rest of the team. Hotch was more relaxed, smiled more freely, and even joked with you from time to time. You confided in him and he in you, although to a lesser extent. He was still Hotch, afterall. But in that context you were friends.

His office was like a strange liminal space between your friendship and your professional relationship. You were at work, but the atmosphere was still relaxed. You talked about your personal lives and the work of the BAU interchangeably. It always left you feeling awkward and off-balance. 

“Do you have plans tonight?” Hotch asked, leaning back a bit in his chair.

You met his gaze sharply, caught off-guard by the question. Anticipation and excitement sparked in your chest, daring to hope at the intention behind his question even though you knew you shouldn’t. 

“Oh, uh,” You swallowed thickly, feeling more nervous at the calm expression on his face– like he knew something you didn’t. “No.”

“Would you like to spend Halloween with us? I’m taking Jack trick-or-treating and he said he wanted to bake cookies. I know you enjoy Halloween and Jack would love to see you...” Hotch cleared his throat slightly, leaning forward again and setting his hands on the top of his desk. 

“That sounds wonderful.” You smiled brightly. “I’d love to.” 

“I’m picking him up from school at four,” Hotch said, “Come over anytime after that.” 

“Okay,” You nodded, moving back to the door. “Great.” 

“And L/N?” Hotch called as you were about to step back out onto the walkway.

You looked back at him. “Yeah?”

“Bring the hat.” Hotch said, his gaze already focused back on the file on his desk. 

Biting back a smile as a storm of butterflies took off in your stomach, you shut the door behind you. You walked back into the BAU bullpen and sat down to work at your desk in an even better mood than when you woke up that morning. 

~

Trick or treating was a familiar, heartwarming cycle. The two-toned ring of a doorbell, the latch opening followed by the excited shouting chorus of “trick or treat!” The homeowner exclaims in joyful surprise and asks who everyone is dressed as while dropping a few pieces of candy into the bags and pillowcases held out in eager hands. 

Then it’s off to the next house, hurrying along the bustling sidewalk with excitement and anticipation. 

Jack, newly obsessed with  _ Star Wars _ , had chosen Chewbacca as his costume. He looked absurdly adorable in the little furry suit, constantly messing with the head because it kept falling in front of his eyes. You and Hotch strolled behind him, not wanting to get in the way of his fun, but keeping a close eye on him all the same. You were both well-aware that “safe” neighborhoods didn’t really exist. Still, you were enjoying yourself. And based on the soft smile seemingly stuck on Hotch’s face, he was too. 

By the time you’d arrived at their apartment, he’d changed out of his usual suit and tie, putting on a soft grey sweater and jeans instead. He looked good. Distractingly so. 

Admittedly, your last-minute costume idea for him was partly to find and excuse to touch him.

“You can’t go out without a costume,” You’d clicked your tongue disapprovingly as the two of you waited for Jack to get dressed after finishing the cookies together. 

“It’s a little late for that now.” 

“Nonsense.” You shook your head, walking over to the drawer where they kept supplies for Jack’s arts and crafts projects. “You’re looking at the queen of five-minute Halloween costumes.” 

Hotch watched you with a mix of suspicion and amusement as you selected a piece of black construction paper and cut out three circles. You stuck some tape to the back of each before approaching him. 

“There…” You bit your lip, trying to play it cool as you stuck them in a line along the right side of his chest. “Now you’re Three-Hole-Punch Hotch.” 

“‘Three-Hole-Punch Hotch?’” He repeated, raising his eyebrows. 

“Yes.” You said, pressing your lips together and trying not to smile. “Like Three-Hole-Punch Jim from  _ The Office _ . Although it actually sounds better with your name.” 

Hotch looked down at the dots. He shook his head, chuckling. When he looked up again and met your gaze, you felt your breath hitch slightly in your chest. He seemed to notice the reaction, his expression turning into something more serious, thoughtful as his gaze traced your face. 

You held completely still, feeling your heartbeat thrumming through your entire body. Hotch had been lifting his hand as if to touch you when Jack’s voice, calling for his dad to help him with his costume, startled you both back into reality. Neither of you addressed the strange moment, focusing on getting Jack out the door. 

Now, covered by the darkness and the noise of the busy street as you stopped on the walkway of another house, you let your gaze wander back over to Hotch. He was watching his son with pure love in his eyes. It was breathtaking. 

Then he turned his gaze on you, the emotion behind his eyes shifting, but only slightly. Your chest tightened, feeling your face heat up as you returned the affection of his gaze in equal measure. Hotch smiled at you, soft and knowing. You smiled back, turning away before it got too much and you thought your chest might burst. 

“Y/N?” Jack trudged over to you, tugging at the head of his suit. “It’s uncomfy.” 

“Here, buddy,” You crouched in front of him, helping detach the top from the rest of his costume. “Want me to carry it for you?” 

“Yes, please.” 

“Okay.” You nodded, tucking it under your arm. 

“Only three more houses, okay, Jack?” Hotch said. “It’s getting late.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Jack nodded, holding his candy bag lower and dragging his feet a little more. 

He made it through the last three houses, clearly tired but still driven by the all-powerful desire for candy. By the time Hotch was buckling him into his seat, he was getting grumpy. 

After a couple pieces of candy in the car, however, Jack gained a second wind. 

As Hotch unlocked the door, Jack rushed into the apartment, beelining for the living room where he proceeded to dump all of his candy onto the floor. 

“Woah!” He exclaimed, laughing in excitement. “Dad! Y/N! Look how much candy I got!” 

You walked in after him, looking over the back of the couch at the pile of candy. 

“Wow, Jack! That’s a lot of candy.” You said, “How many pieces do you think there are?” 

“Like a thousand!” 

“Why don’t you count them and find out?” Hotch suggested, his arm brushing against yours as he came to stand next to you. 

“And I can sort them.” Jack nodded, surveying his haul with glee. “Find out how many of each piece and then add those up to know how many in total!” 

“I like that plan, kiddo.” You smiled, enjoying his mathematical mindset.

“He’s going to be working on that for a while,” Hotch turned to you, lowering his voice slightly. “I’ll open a bottle of wine.”

“Sure,” You agreed, butterflies fluttering in your stomach again. “That sounds nice.” 

“Okay,” Hotch smiled gently, reaching out and touching your arm. “Make yourself at home, I’ll be right back.” 

He pulled back, heading into the kitchen. You let out a slow breath, trying to calm the swell of anticipation within you. Padding back towards the front door, you took off your blazer and hat, hanging them up. After toeing off your shoes and leaving them next to Hotch and Jack’s, you settled on the couch and watched Jack work. 

“What’s your favorite candy?” Jack asked, looking suddenly up at you. 

“Anything with chocolate.” You said. 

He looked back at the pile for a moment in contemplation before grabbing a snickers bar and shuffling over to you on his knees and holding it out for you. 

“Oh, but don’t you want to count first?”

“Nah,” Jack shrugged, “If you eat it it’s one less I have to count. And I don’t like that it has peanuts.” 

“Fair enough.” You smiled, accepting the piece of candy. “Thanks, sweetpea.” 

“You’re welcome!” He chirped, shuffling back over to continue sorting. 

As you were finishing the treat, Hotch returned from the kitchen with two glasses of wine. He handed one to you before settling down beside you on the couch. Normally when you hung out at their apartment, you were careful to keep a level of distance between you and him. Friendly distance. 

But now he was sitting  _ right _ next to you, his leg warm where it pressed gently against yours, the contact sending electricity through your body. You took a big sip of wine, hoping to find a bit of calm and confidence. 

“Here you go, Dad.” Jack said, shuffling back over and dropping a peppermint patty into Hotch’s lap. 

“Is that your favorite?” You asked. 

“No,” Hotch said, leaning away from you to set the candy down on the side table “But I like mint and Jack does not.” 

“It’s yucky.” Jack confirmed, going back to his candy. 

“Good to know.” You nodded thoughtfully. “And how do the Hotchners feel about coconut?” 

“I like it.” Hotch said. 

“I don’t know.” Jack said. 

“Did you get any mounds or almond joy?” You asked. “Those both have coconut.”

Jack hummed, searching the still unsorted pile before exclaiming as he discovered one. He unwrapped it and took an experimental bite, chewing for a moment before nodding resolutely. 

“I like it too.” He declared. 

“Good.” You smiled, “I’ll have to make you macaroons sometime.” 

“What are those?” Jack asked, his mouth full of the rest of the candy bar. 

“They’re like little balls of coconut,” You explained. “You mix them with eggs and vanilla and some other stuff and then bake them and then eat them. They’re very yummy.” 

“Can we make them together? Like with the cookies?” 

“I would love that.” You answered, and then glanced questioningly at Hotch. “If it’s okay with your dad, that is.” 

Hotch leaned back, bringing his arm up to rest along the back of the couch behind you. His expression was serious, one you were familiar with from the field when he was contemplating a big decision. 

“Please?” Jack whined. 

Hotch broke, smiling down at his son. “Of course.” 

Jack cheered, eating another piece of candy in celebration. Hotch met your gaze, holding it as he took a sip of wine. You couldn’t help watching his adam's apple bob as he swallowed, getting distracted by the strong lines of his neck. 

Feeling heat rising to your face, you shifted slightly and looked back over at Jack. He continued to chatter as he sorted for a while, and you heard yourself responding in small acknowledging ways, even though you weren’t really listening. You were struggling to concentrate on anything but Hotch’s hand brushing your shoulder, catching the ends of your hair in his fingers and playing with them gently. 

Taking his cue, you tucked your legs up onto the couch and leaned into Hotch a bit, comforted by the solidity and warmth of him. He shifted to let you in, bringing his arm down from the back of the sofa to curl around your side and tuck you against him. 

Jack had quieted by then, finished sorting everything and starting to count. You leaned your head against Hotch’s shoulder, his sweater soft against your cheek. He kissed the top of your head, his fingers brushing softly across your skin. 

You stayed there, comfortable and content, until Jack’s sugar crash finally hit. His counting slowed and his eyelids looked heavier with every blink. 

“Okay buddy,” Hotch’s deep voice broke the hazy silence, “I think it’s time for bed.” 

You moved to sit up, but Hotch’s arm tightened around you, keeping you in place as his lips brushed your temple.

“I’m going to get him to bed and then I’ll be back.” He murmured. “I’d like you to stay.” 

You watched as he pulled away and got up from the couch, your heart thumping against your ribs. He set his glass down and lifted Jack from the floor like he weighed nothing at all. Hotch held his son gently against his shoulder, Jack’s furry-suited legs dangling. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Jack mumbled, blinking sleepily at you. 

“Goodnight, kiddo.” You returned, smiling softly. “Happy Halloween.” 

They disappeared down the hallway and into Jack’s room. You heard them talking but couldn’t make out the words, just Jack’s sleepy tone and Hotch’s deep voice. 

Hotch hadn’t  _ told  _ you to stay. It wasn’t an order. It was an invitation. He wanted you to stay, if that was what you wanted. 

And you wanted to stay. 

Suddenly thrumming with energy, you stood from the couch and downed the rest of your wine. Now empty glass in hand, you paced over to the kitchen. You’d always been a nervous cleaner, and the warm water and focus of washing the glass helped calm the anticipation burning you up. 

Hotch being Hotch, though, he hadn’t left much else that needed tidying up. You set the wine glass in the rack to dry and then found a tupperware to store the cookies still left out on the counter. 

You paced back into the living room, contemplating whether it would be a good idea to move Jack’s candy or not, when you heard the sound of a door being gently pulled shut. You stilled, frozen to the spot as Hotch re-emerged.

He moved towards you, stopping just a few inches away from you. His expression was unreadable as ever, but from the slight tension in his shoulders, you guessed he was either just as nervous as you, or more likely, could sense your apprehension. 

Wanting to assure him that you wanted this, whatever it was, you looked up at him with a gentle smile. 

“You’re still Three-Hole-Punch Hotch,” You said, keeping your voice quiet so as not to wake Jack.

Keeping your hands steady despite the racing of your heart, you reached forward and peeled the now rumpled black circles from his sweater.

“There we go,” You murmured, meeting his gaze. “Just Hotch again.”

His hand came up, fingers curling gently around your wrist. Your breath hitched involuntarily in your chest, your eyes trapped in the soft amber of his gaze. 

“Call me Aaron.” He said, taking the crumpled paper from you with his other hand and letting it drop to the floor before lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to your palm. “I want you to call me Aaron.” 

You stepped closer, lifting your free hand to his face, touching his cheek. He let go of your other hand as his hands fell to your waist. You held his gaze as he pulled you closer. 

You moved your hand down his cheek and along his jaw, tracing it with fascination before resting both hands on his broad shoulders. 

“Aaron…” You murmured, testing out his name on your tongue and finding you liked it. 

“Can I kiss you?” He breathed, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, restraint barely containing the want in his eyes. 

You responded by leaning up and pressing your lips to his. 

You pulled away almost as quickly as you made contact, searching his face for any sign that he’d realized this was a mistake, that he didn’t want you, that you shouldn’t— 

But then one of his hands slid to your back and the other was slipping under your hair to cradle the back of your head and he was kissing you with an intensity that had you tilting backwards, knocked off-balance. 

Hotch kept you stable, grounding your body even if the kiss left your mind completely senseless. You gripped the soft material of his sweater in your hands, returning the kiss with equal fervor. 

When he pulled back, your chest was heaving as you gasped for breath. Hotch ran his fingers through your hair, searching your face with a mix of desperation and affection. 

“Tell me what you want.” He whispered, voice breathless and hoarse. “Whatever you want. Tell me.” 

“You,” The answer came easier than anything you’d ever had to say. “I want you.” 

And then he was kissing you again, hands grasping your hips and slowly walking you somewhere. You were too caught up in the feeling of him, the warmth and scent and taste, to realize where you were going until you got there. 

He stopped at the edge of his bed, the room dimly lit by a single lamp on the bedside table. He pulled back once more, hands still warm against your sides but a question in his eyes, a hesitation. 

You leaned forward, kissing a trail across the underside of his jaw and then down his neck, adoring the feeling of his chest expanding with the shaking breath your attention elicited. You gripped the hem of his sweater, pulling back long enough to tug it upwards. He let go of your waist long enough to take over, pulling the garment over his head and tossing it somewhere behind you. 

You moved forward to explore his chest with your mouth, but his fingers grasped your chin, pulling you up to kiss him again. You settled for running your hands over his chest, caressing the lean muscle and scattered scars decorating his skin. 

His hands moved to your chest, working the buttons of your black blouse until it fell open and exposed your torso. Hotch slid his hands inside, his palms deliciously warm against your skin. 

He pushed the fabric away from your shoulders and you let it drop to the floor. Once you managed to undo his belt, his pants joined the pile, followed by yours. Then your bra was tossed elsewhere, forgotten immediately as he pulled you down onto the bed. 

With his body pressing down above you, the two of you kissed a while longer, hands exploring the expanse of each other’s skin. Soon, though, Hotch moved down your body, kissing a winding path over your chest and down your stomach until he was sliding your underwear off and letting it join the mess of clothes on the floor. He pressed a kiss to each ankle, and then each calf, and then the inside of each of your thighs. 

After that, the sheets were crumpled in your left fist while your right grasped at his hair, tugging and pushing at the short dark strands of it. He kept your legs hooked over his shoulders and one hand on your hip, pressing you down into the mattress as he worked you into a desperate, strung-out mess. 

Hotch moved back up beside you, quietly praising you, telling you how good you were, how beautiful. You reached for him, needing his warmth and his weight and his touch. He leaned over you again, kissing you and caressing you until you were ready again. 

It was hard to stay quiet, not to lose yourself in the heat of it and shout his name for the whole world to hear. But Jack was asleep across the hall. Still, the need to keep quiet made everything seem more intense.

Hotch murmured incoherent words, a mix of your name and praise and profanity that sounded so strange and yet so good coming out of his mouth. You held onto him, your nails leaving marks on his back as you moved with him. 

When you reached your peak for the second time, it happened suddenly, hitting you like a freight train. He followed you over the precipice within seconds, the two of you shuddering and gasping together. It was like a nuclear reaction, two entities coming together in a contained, resonating explosion that would leave both forever altered. 

He kissed you again as you both came down from the high, slow and deep. You carded your hands through his hair, chasing his lips when he pulled away. 

He shifted, settling down to lay next to you, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you close. 

You tucked your face into the crook of his neck, exhaling contentedly. 

“That was…” 

“Better than I ever imagined it would be.” Hotch murmured, dropping a kiss into your hair.

“Mmm,” You agreed, feeling the tug of sleep on the edge of your mine. “For me too.” 

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” You nodded, unable to stop the yawn stretching across your face. 

Hotch unwrapped one arm from you, leaning over to switch off the light before settling back down and pulling you as close as possible.

“Get some rest,” he said, drawing nonsense patterns on your back, the soft caress of his hand sending you quickly toward sleep. 

“Goodnight, Aaron.” You whispered, eyes already closed. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

Even as you drifted off, you could hear the smile in his voice. 


	2. Chapter Two

Jack bounded out of the dark movie theater ahead of you, hopped up on soda and residual excitement from the superhero adventure he’d just watched. He was in his own world for a while, playing at being his own superhero identity. You and Hotch followed behind at a more leisurely pace. 

You were smiling and enjoying his antics when a warm hand engulfed your own. Your eyes widened, looking at Hotch in surprise. His hand on your leg during the movie, hidden in the dark theater while Jack was focused on the action on screen was one thing, but this was much more bold. 

He laced his fingers with yours, shrugging slightly. “He’s too busy to notice.”

Hotch was right. Jack paid the two of you absolutely no mind, making flying noises and stopping to mime blasting a trash can with his hands. You squeezed Hotch’s hand, only letting go when the three of you reached the car. 

Hotch kept his hands to himself during the drive to drop you off at your apartment, listening dutifully as Jack excitedly recounted the film. 

“And did you see when he did that spin move and they all flew backwards? That was so cool!” Jack practically bounced in his seat. 

“I saw that, bud.” Hotch nodded, calm as ever, “It was pretty cool.” 

You turned around in the passenger seat to see Jack better. “What about when his partner jumped out of the plane? I thought she was awesome, too.” 

“Yeah!” Jack agreed. “Did you see when she landed it made the street crack?” 

“I did!” You smiled, looking back at Hotch for a moment. “I felt bad for her knees, but it was pretty cool.” 

Hotch let out a small huff of laughter at that, glancing at you with a small smile. The sight only made your smile grow wider as you turned to talk more about the movie with Jack. 

“I wish you went to movies with us all the time.” Jack sighed as Hotch pulled into the parking lot of your apartment building. 

You looked over at Hotch, meeting his gaze. He raised his eyebrows at you and you gave him a small nod of agreement. You both unbuckled your seatbelts to better turn around and face Jack. 

“Well kiddo,” Hotch began, “I’m glad you said that, because Y/N is going to be spending more time with us from now on.” 

“How come?” Jack asked, tilting his head in a way that reminded you so much of Hotch. 

“Your dad and I are…” You paused, trying to find the right word. 

‘Dating’ seemed juvenile, too shallow to explain how much you felt for the man sitting next to you. 

“We’re in a relationship.” Hotch said, reaching for your hand again. “We love love each other.”

“I know.” Jack said simply, looking at you like you’d just told him the sky was blue. 

“You do?” Hotch’s brow furrowed. 

“Yeah.” Jack nodded. “You look at Y/N the way you used to look at Mommy. And you drink wine together.”

Your lips parted a surprised laugh left you. Hotch looked at you, his expression just as stunned. Growing serious again, you looked back at Jack with an earnest expression.

“Jack,” You said, “You know I love you a whole lot, right? And even though I love you and I love your dad, I’m never going to replace your mom. But I am going to be here for both of you.” 

Hotch’s grip tightened on your hand. 

“I know.” Jack nodded again. “I love you too.” 

Your throat clogged with emotion, you turned to look at Hotch again. When he met your gaze, there were tears in his eyes. You smiled softly, squeezing his hand. He lifted your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. He took a breath before clearing his throat and looking back at his son. 

“What do you think about Y/N coming over for dinner?” Hotch asked. 

“Sure.” Jack shrugged. “Can we have dino nuggets?” 

“Yes, buddy,” Hotch laughed, letting go of your hand long enough to turn the car back on. “We can have dino nuggets.” 

Once he’d pulled back out of the lot and started driving to his and Jack’s apartment, Hotch reached across the console to hold your hand again. He didn’t let go for the rest of the drive. 

Jack’s initial reaction (or lack thereof) to your and Hotch’s announcement held steady. Admittedly, you spent part of the evening waiting for the other shoe to drop. But he remained unfazed throughout dinner, chattering away about his math project in school and repeating plot points from the movie and comparing dino nuggets to normal nuggets. You were both in agreement that dino nuggets were superior, much to Hotch’s amusement. 

After dinner, while Jack was engrossed in an episode of  _ Wild Kratts _ before he had to get ready for bed, you insisted on handling the clean up. 

You’d loaded the dishes into the dishwasher and were standing at the sink scrubbing the cookie sheet used to make the dino nugget when Hotch joined you. He made sure you saw him first, not wanting to startle you, before sliding his arms around your waist. 

He dropped his head to your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder. You set the sheet to dry in the rack before settling back against Hotch’s chest as you cleaned your hands with a towel. 

“I think you should stay tonight.” He murmured, moving to kiss the side of your neck. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Jack knows now. It’s late. It’s the weekend.” Hotch continued trailing his lips up your neck. “No reason for you to go home.”

“I don’t have any clothes...” 

“You can wear mine.” Hotch said, hitting the spot under your ear that always made your knees go weak. “Stay.” 

Your answer came easily, whispered in a shaking exhale. “Okay.” 

Hotch turned you around, one hand settling on your hip as the other came up to your face. He kissed you, soft and slow. Your hands fell to his chest as you leaned up to kiss him back. 

The sound of Jack’s laughter in the other room drew you apart again as you smiled. Hotch smiled too, taking your hand and leading you into the living room to watch the rest of the episode with Jack. 

When you walked into the room, he was sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest. As you and Hotch settled next to each other on the couch, he wordlessly moved up to join you, squeezing in between your bodies. You lifted your arm to make room for him and he immediately snuggled up against you. 

Your chest tightened, filling with warm affection. When you looked at Hotch with a smile, you were faced with that enigmatic expression of his, full of emotion and depth that even he wasn’t sure how to fully identify. You held his gaze as he lifted his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders to pull both you and Jack closer. 

You cuddled contentedly together until the cartoon credits rolled and Hotch started corralling Jack to bed. You helped where you could, offering to compete with Jack on who could brush their teeth better. Hotch watched with an amused look as you accepted an extra toothbrush and got into the competition– you were really just taking your time while Jack excitedly tried to scrub every one of his teeth back to front. You each smiled wide for Hotch to judge. He took time to carefully consider, brows drawn in focus, before declaring Jack the winner. 

“Yes!” Jack cheered, doing a little happy dance. 

“Aw man,” You shook your head in defeat. “I’ll have to practice more for next time.” 

Hotch tugged you gently closer, pressing a kiss to your temple before calmly ushering Jack back into the hallway and to his room. Standing in the doorway, you watched with a small smile as Hotch tucked him into his sheets patterned with little Death Stars. Jack looked at you, peeking out over the top of the blanket. 

“Come read the story with Dad.” He said, and then after catching his father’s eyes added: “Please?” 

“Of course,” You smiled softly, padding into the room and perching next to Hotch on the edge of Jack’s bed. 

The two of them were working their way through the  _ Magic Tree House _ series. 

“Y/N should do the voices.” Jack said, settling into his pillows. “Dad, you read the other stuff.” 

You bit back a smile at how much he resembled his father in that moment, assertively giving you your assignments. If Hotch noticed, he gave no sign, opening the book between the two of you and beginning to read the narration in his calm baritone. 

You read the dialogue, putting on a British accent for Morgan Le Fay, softening your cadence for Annie, and using your normal voice for Jack. Your own Jack listened intently until his eyelids began to droop and he started to yawn. 

Hotch reached a stopping point, closing the book and leaning forward to kiss Jack on the forehead as he rose from the bed. 

“Goodnight, Jack.” 

“‘Night, Dad.” Jack smiled sleepily, cuddling deeper into his bed. “‘Night, Y/N. Love you.” 

“Love you too,” You said, smiling softly as you gently brushed his cheek. “To the moon and back.” 

As you walked to the door, Hotch let his hand rest on your lower back, guiding you out ahead of him while he flicked off the light and shut the door. The two of you moved across the hall to the master bedroom to get ready to sleep yourselves. As easy and delightful as it was to spend time with him, you were looking forward to a long night’s sleep for once, happy to simply be wrapped up in his arms.

“Here,” Hotch said, offering you a tee shirt and pair of sweatpants. 

You accepted them with a smile, although he didn’t return it. He didn’t even seem to notice it, turning away from you immediately. You studied him for a moment as he unbuttoned his dress shirt and took off his pants. In his undershirt and boxers, he sat on the edge of the bed, taking off his watch and setting it on the nightstand, his brows were furrowed and his gaze turned inward. It was the expression he made when he was deep in thought about something, puzzling through case details looking for a connection or contemplating a tough call in the field. 

You changed quickly, forgoing the sweatpants as the tee shirt fell to the middle of your thighs. Surrounded in the soft material of his shirt and the comforting smell of him, you moved around to the other side of the bed. Crawling across the bed, you knelt behind him and wrapped your arms around his broad chest, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

“Penny for your thoughts, Agent Hotchner?” You asked, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder. 

He sighed gently, reaching up to take your hand. He lifted it to his lips, kissing your soft skin. 

“Come here,” He tugged your arm gently, and you moved around to straddle his lap. 

You traced your finger across his brow bone and down his cheek, studying his ridiculously handsome features with care and affection. His hands were on either side of your waist, big and warm and anchoring you. 

“Talk to me, Aaron.” You murmured, holding his gaze. “That’s what I’m here for, you know. To stop you from carrying it all by yourself all the time.” 

He closed his eyes for a moment, some of the tension releasing from his shoulders at your words. His left hand lifted to your face, tucking hair behind your ear. His fingers followed the lock down, playing with the soft end of the strand. 

“I was thinking about what Jack said in the car. About me looking at you like I looked at Haley.” He admitted. “And what you said about not replacing her.” 

“I meant it.” You said sincerely. “I love you both so much but I know she’ll always be important. She’ll always be part of your family. And I never want to get in the way of that.” 

“I know.” Hotch gave you a small smile, his hand dropping back to squeeze your waist.

You watched him quietly, waiting for him to go on. In the years you’d known him, expressing his emotions had never been easy for him. But he was trying, because you asked him to, and for that you were more than happy to wait until he was ready. 

“Maybe I do look at you how I looked at Haley,” He continued, almost like he was talking to himself before he met your gaze again, his amber eyes more open than you’d ever seen them. “But I don’t love you like I loved her.” 

Your breath hitched in your chest, but you held it in, keeping silent as he continued. 

“You’re right. Haley will always be important. She was my first love and the mother of my son. She will always be a part of our family.” He said, his grip tightening reflexively. “But you’re a part of it too. I think you have been for a long time. I don’t know why I was worried about Jack finding out about us. You’ve always been great with him.” 

“He’s an amazing kid.” You murmured, carding your fingers through his close-cropped dark hair.

“I loved Haley and I love you, but it’s different. You’re…you’re my best friend.” He shook his head, and you thought he looked adorably bashful. “Ever since we met, there’s been something there whenever I look at you. Even when I wanted to fix things with Haley, I would look at you and...” 

He trailed off, his jaw ticking slightly. 

“I felt it too. Even though I knew you were trying to make it work with her.” You admitted, “Honestly, it just made me love you more.” 

He furrowed his brow, looking at you in confusion and slight concern. 

“Giving Haley what she wanted, not fighting her on the divorce and giving her the out, even though it was hurting you…I hated to see you in pain but I also thought it was one of the most loving things you could have done for her.” 

He bent his head forward, his forehead resting against the top of your sternum. You held him close, wishing you could take the burden of his guilt and loss, to ease the weight of the pain from his past. After a moment, he sat up, meeting your gaze again. 

“I don’t deserve you.” 

“Yes,” You almost laughed at the absurdity of his statement. “You absolutely do. You deserve to be happy, Aaron. To be loved and taken care of. You deserve it all.” 

He stared at you a moment longer, taking in the sight of you like he was admiring a piece of artwork. Then, reaching a hand up to cradle the back of your head, he pulled you in for a kiss. Your hands slipping down to hold his shoulders, you deepened the kiss, returning his affection in earnest. 

His hand dropped back to your hips, holding tight as he turned you around and laid you down on the bed, leaning above you. He kissed you again, slow and deep, arms pressed into the mattress on either side of your head. 

When he pulled back for air, sitting up slightly, you watched his gaze track appreciatively over your body. A small smile tugged at the side of his mouth as he met your eyes again. 

“You look good in my clothes.” 

You hummed in thoughtful agreement. “I know that’s the  _ real  _ reason you asked me to stay.” 

“I thought,” He leaned back down, kissing down the side of your neck, “We didn’t profile each other.” 

“Listen,” You said, barely able to keep a straight face. “It’s not my fault you’re an open book.” 

He laughed at that, his breath warm against your collarbone. You reached for the collar of his shirt, dragging him up to kiss you again. He was more than happy to oblige. 

~

“What do you think of this for Morgan?” You asked, holding up a lightweight crewneck sweater the color of red wine. 

Hotch looked up from where he was browsing a rack of dress shirts a few feet away. He looked at the sweater a moment and then nodded. 

With less than a week before Christmas, the two of you had taken advantage of a free evening (while Jack was with his aunt) to get some holiday shopping done. 

You draped the sweater over your arm, wandering over to look at the store’s selection of ties. You found a nice one for Reid in a muted green, putting it on top of a dark navy one for Hotch. 

You weren’t really expecting to keep him from seeing it, but your show of discretion would be the perfect decoy. You planned to give him the tie, of course, but it was a small addition to your  _ real _ gift— a limited edition early release record of the Beatles’ White Album. 

You’d been thinking about it as a gift for years, and even found a few places to buy it, but always felt it was a step too far for a colleague to colleague – or even friend to friend – gift. But a month earlier you’d wandered into his home office looking for a pen and noticed the record player and box of vinyls in the corner. After that, you’d decided to go for it. 

Just two days earlier, the box from a hole-in-the-wall music shop in London had been delivered to your apartment. It was currently hidden at the back of your closet, although you spent most of your nights not on a case at Hotch’s apartment anyway. You didn’t need Reid’s knowledge of statistics to know the risks of him finding it were next to none. 

Still, you felt a small rush of pride at being able to fool one of the best profilers ever to grace the FBI. You carefully moved the ties under Morgan’s sweater, knowing Hotch was keeping an eye on you while he did his own shopping. 

“Ready to check out?” You asked, bumping his shoulder gently. 

The bag from the boutique across the street dangling from the crook of your other elbow already held gifts for JJ and Emily. Garcia’s gift was tucked next to Hotch’s in the closet. You’d bought a nice bottle of bourbon for Rossi a while back during a case in Kentucky. Jack’s gifts were already hidden in the highest shelves and cabinets at home. 

“Yeah,” Hotch nodded. “Let’s go.” 

You checked out at separate registers, and you shifted your body to try and obstruct his view as the cashier folded your items and slipped them into a bag. Normally, Hotch would offer to carry your bags for you, but this time he didn’t, though his gaze flicked down to the tissue-paper concealed opening at the top. You bit back a smile, knowing your plan was working. 

As you stepped out of the store into the chilly D.C. evening, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. You cuddled up against him as best you could, enjoying the warmth he radiated constantly, no matter the weather. 

His lips brushed your temple, the two of you wandering in the direction of the car. 

“Why don’t we eat out tonight?” He suggested. “There’s a nice Italian place nearby.” 

“Is it Rossi-approved?” You asked with a smile. 

He chuckled slightly. “Probably not, but at least they don’t serve dino nuggets.”

“What?” You stopped, looking at him in mock horror. “Why on earth would we want to go?” 

He sighed, shaking his head in tired amusement. You dropped the act, smiling as you tucked yourself back into his side. 

“That sounds lovely,” You said. 

You dropped the bags in the car and walked the block and a half to the restaurant. While you waited to be seated, he kept his hand on the small of your back and you let your head rest against his shoulder, quietly content. 

“Hotch? Y/N?” 

You startled at the sound of your name, lifting your head from his shoulder and turning around to see JJ and Emily standing just inside the door. Your eyes widened, heart-rate picking up and face heating with the embarrassment of being caught. 

“It  _ is  _ you!” Emily greeted, smiling. 

“Prentiss.” Hotch dropped his hand from your back, but didn’t move away from you. “JJ.” 

JJ crossed her arms, smiling knowingly. “What are you two doing here?” 

“Holiday shopping.” 

“We just ran into each other.” 

You and Hotch spoke at the same time, stopping short as you registered the other’s answer. 

“We ran into each other holiday shopping.” You quickly amended, the answer sounding nowhere close to convincing. 

“Right.” Emily nodded slowly, clearly fighting back a smile. “And you just happened to wander into this restaurant afterwards.” 

His initial surprise seeming to wear off as his expert profiling kicked in, Hotch crossed his arms, scowling. 

“I don’t believe we owe an explanation for what we do in our free time.” 

“No,” JJ and Emily shared a look. “No, we don’t.” 

“Aaron.” You put your hand on his arm, now fighting back a smile of your own. 

“What—” he looked at you, brow furrowed, and then looked back at the two of them, his expression softening in realization. “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” You let your smile free, turning to see it mirrored by both your friends. 

“You didn’t tell me.” He didn’t sound offended, more stating the obvious. 

“Seemed a little hypocritical.” 

Hotch bowed his head in a small nod, his jaw ticking in the way that meant he was holding back a smile of his own. 

“So,” JJ raised her eyebrows, “How long has this been going on?” 

You glanced up at Hotch with the unspoken question. He lifted his hand to your back once more, inclining his head in silent assent. 

“Since Halloween.” You said, leaning ever so slightly closer to you. 

Emily let out an impressed breath, “Wow, I was off by like a month and a half.” 

“What?” Hotch frowned again. 

JJ glanced at Emily again, before explaining. “There’s a small bet going around. On whether or not you two are going to get together.” 

“A bet.” 

“Yeah,” Emily admitted sheepishly. “Morgan and Garcia started it a while back. I only put money in the pot so they’d back off about me and JJ.” 

“You know about that?” You asked, pretending not to notice Hotch looking at you again in surprise. 

Emily shot you a look. “I mean, there’s a reason  _ we’re  _ the ones with secret relationships and  _ not _ Morgan and Garcia.”

“And I’d appreciate it if they remained secret.” Hotch cut in, pulling you closer to his side. “We aren’t planning to bring this to Strauss’s attention yet. Or the rest of the team.” 

“Hey, like Y/N said, it would be pretty hypocritical of us to tell anyone.” JJ said. “Plus, I really don’t want Garcia and Morgan to win.” 

You laughed lightly. “I’ll drink to that.” 

“Hotchner?” The waitress called. “We have a table ready for you.” 

“Don’t worry, Hotch.” Emily smiled, “Your secret is safe with us. Now go enjoy your date.” 

“Thank you.” He nodded, a small smile on his lips. “And I’m happy for you both.”

Prentiss reached for JJ’s hand, their fingers intertwined. 

“You too, sir.” JJ said, smiling. 

As you followed the waitress to your table, Hotch leaned close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. 

“I hope you’re not hiding anything else from me.” 

His tone wasn’t angry, so much as impressed. Although there seemed to be an unspoken ‘or else’ at the end of the sentence which sent a tingle down your spine. 

“Honestly I thought you already knew.” You said as he pulled your chair out for you. “I didn’t realize you had such terrible gaydar.” 

He sent you a tired look as he sat down across from you, although you saw the amusement hiding behind his eyes. While you both looked at the menu, he reached for your hand, gently brushing his thumb across the back of your hand. 

Feeling the prickle of someone watching you, you looked up to see Prentiss and JJ being seated a few tables away. They both shot you huge smiles and thumbs up. You bit your lip, shaking your head as you looked back at the menu. 

When they finally found out, the rest of the team were going to be  _ insufferable _ . Of that you were certain. 

~

The team always exchanged gifts on Christmas Eve before parting for a couple of days off to celebrate the holiday. You all gathered in the bullpen and traded wrapped packages and cards and well wishes. 

Rossi nodded his approval at the bourbon, Reid happened to be wearing a sweater vest that went perfectly with his new tie, and Morgan liked his sweater, although he liked the Christmas cookies you’d brought in that morning even more (it was  _ killing _ you not to brag that Jack had helped you make them). JJ and Emily each thanked you for their necklace and bracelet respectively. Garcia squeezed you so tightly you squeaked after she opened the custom-made pink leopard print name plate for her desk.

Hotch frowned when he opened his, expecting a pen or something equally small, and finding the tie instead. You’d both agreed to give each other something innocuous at the work gift exchange, not wanting to arouse any suspicion. No one else batted an eyelash at the tie, and Hotch quickly recovered, thanking you quietly. 

“You’re welcome,” You nodded, giving him your best ‘ _ later’ _ look before turning back to the small party and talking to Reid about the book he’d just given you. 

You had Hotch’s  _ real _ gift wrapped and ready to go along with Jack’s presents in the trunk of your car. After work, you headed to their apartment to celebrate. 

When he opened the door of the apartment, Hotch was wearing his new tie. You smiled, leaning in to kiss him hello. 

“I like your tie, Agent Hotchner.” You said, letting him lift one of the wrapped boxes from your arms. 

“I do too.” He agreed, shutting the door behind you. 

You’d just set your gifts by the couch when you heard sock-covered feet running down the short hallway. 

“Y/N!” 

“Hey, buddy!” You greeted, turning around in time to catch Jack in a big hug. “Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas  _ Eve _ ,” Jack corrected as he leaned back, his small hands on your shoulders. 

“You’re right. My bad,” You nodded, kissing his cheek. “Merry Christmas Eve, Jack.” 

“Are those presents?” Jack asked, his eyes widening as he leaned around you and noticed the gifts. “Can I open them?” 

“Dinner first.” Hotch said, his voice firm. “And you have to eat all your vegetables.” 

“ _ Dad, _ ” Jack whined. “But it’s Christmas.”

You poked Jack in the tummy, making him squirm away and giggle. “Christmas  _ Eve _ . We still eat our veggies on Christmas Eve.” 

“Fine.” Jack huffed, tearing his gaze away from the presents and shuffling over to the dining room table. 

Jack dutifully ate the green elements of his dinner while he recounted the entire plot of  _ How The Grinch Stole Christmas _ , which his class had watched at the end of their half-day at school. He even waited patiently for you and his dad to finish your own plates, practically vibrating with anticipation by the time you were done. 

“Okay,” Hotch said with a small smile. “Now we can open presents.” 

Jack was out of his seat like a shot, scurrying over to the living room. You and Hotch followed, settling onto the couch as Jack eagerly read the labels and handed the correct boxes to each person. 

“When I was growing up, the youngest always went first.” You said. 

Jack didn’t need to be told twice, immediately tearing through the wrapping paper to reveal his gift. He lifted up the glossy-covered book, frowning as he tried to read the words in a way that looked so much like Hotch you couldn’t help but smile. 

“ _ Darth Baker: Recipes from a Galaxy Far, Far Away _ .” He sounded out. 

“It’s a  _ Star Wars _ themed baking book,” You explained. “I thought maybe you and I could try some of them together.” 

Jack’s eyes widened in excitement. “Yeah!” 

You nodded back to the package, “There’s something else too.” 

He set the book aside, digging for the next item. 

“Cool!” He exclaimed, lifting a large LEGO set from the superhero movie you’d all gone to see the month before. 

Jack put it down next to the book, shuffling quickly over to you on his knees and wrapping his small arms around you. 

“Thank you, Y/N!” 

“Merry Christmas Eve, Jack.” You said, lifting him up into your lap to hug him more easily. 

He pulled back, tugging on your arm eagerly. “Open yours now.” 

“Okay,” You smiled, letting him slide off of your lap to sit cross-legged on the floor as he watched you pick up the small, slightly flat, rectangular package. 

You opened it carefully, finding a picture frame staring back up at you. It surrounded a piece of plain paper on which was a child’s drawing. Three figures stood together, one very tall and wearing what resembled a black suit on one side, the shortest in the middle with a big smile, and the third with longer hair than the other two on the other side. They all held hands underneath a smiling sun in the sky. 

“It’s you and me and Dad!” Jack said, bouncing excitedly. “I drew it for art class.” 

“Oh Jack,” You breathed, feeling a lump of emotion rise in your throat. “Thank you, it’s beautiful.” 

“You’re welcome!” He chirped. 

You turned to look at Hotch, smiling softly. “You chose a nice frame.”

“Turn it over.” He said, an almost-smile on his face. 

You furrowed your brow, flipping the frame over to check the other side. You found a key taped to the other side. 

“I know we can’t live together officially. Not yet.” Hotch said, watching you trace your fingers over the cold metal. “But I want you to stay whenever you want. For however long you want.” 

“Me too.” Jack added without looking up from inspecting his new LEGO box. 

You met Hotch’s gaze, biting your lip as you tried desperately not to cry. 

“Aaron…” 

“Come here,” he murmured, opening his arms for you. 

You practically crawled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his chest and dropping your head onto his shoulder. He held you close, pressing a kiss to your hair. 

“I love you,” you whispered, turning your face towards him. 

He took hold of your chin, turning his head to kiss you softly. 

“I love you too.” He said, stretching up to kiss your forehead. 

You took a breath, re-centering yourself and pulling away as far as he would let you (his arm remained wrapped snugly around your waist). 

“Oldest goes last.” You teased, laughing the tears away. 

“Don’t remind me.” Hotch sighed, picking up his gift. 

You held your breath as he unwrapped it, waiting for his reaction. 

He cleared the paper away, eyes widening as he realized what it was. He just stared at it, still and silent, so long that Jack finally looked up from his toy. 

“What is it, Dad?” He asked, scooting closer and peering at the object resting on his father’s lap. 

“It’s a Beatles record album.” You said to Jack before turning anxiously back to Hotch. “Do you...do you like it?” 

He met your gaze then, his expression open with surprise and vulnerability. It made him look younger, erasing the hard lines of exhaustion and stress that had etched their way into his skin. 

He reached for your hand, bringing your fingers to his lips. 

“I love it.” He murmured, his breath warm on your skin. “How did you even find this?” 

“I’ve been looking for a long time.” You admitted sheepishly. 

He leaned over and kissed you again, deeper this time, full of all the emotions he had no hope of putting into words but you understood all the same. 

Jack made a grossed out noise, moving away from the two of you icky adults. You pulled back with a soft laugh, pressing your forehead to Hotch’s before turning to Jack. 

“Maybe if you ask really nicely, your dad will play us the album while you get started on that LEGO set.” 

Jack’s expression brightened at that. “Please, Dad?” 

Hotch’s arm squeezed your waist gently, his lips brushing your temple as he stood from the couch. 

Hotch carried the record to his office while you helped Jack tear the plastic wrap off of the box and get it opened. After a moment, you hear the static of the needle hitting the record before the opening notes of “Back in the U.S.S.R” began to play. 

You smiled widely, enjoying the first of many wonderful Christmases with the Hotchners. 

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a comment and let me know what you think!


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